B=Buffy, D=Dawn, X=Xander, W=Willow, S=Spike, A=Anya
PW=Principal Wood, R=RJ Boone

X: You're gonna live in the small room over there. I know it looks like a closet, but it's a room now.

X: Are you keeping up, or do you need some kind of English- to-constant-pain-in-my-ass translation?

X: Is there something more emphatic than hate? Can I revile the plan?

X: I invite you in... nimrod.

B: The school basement is making him crazy. We can't just leave him there.
X: Why not? Crazy-basement-guy is better than stalking- Buffy-guy.

D: You're not starting up again with the whole...
B: No. a thousand gallons of no.

B: You've been out of the basement for a half-an-hour, and you've already stopped talking to invisible people.
S: Bollocks.
B: Okay, so there was that one episode in the car, but...

S: I don't need your molly-coddling.
B: It's not coddling. Now go to your closet.

B: That's a good question.
D: Is sitting there and drinking soda some kind of a Zen non-answer?

D: I just don't think it's the school basement that's making people crazy.

D: I just don't see why people bother. I mean, you put all this energy into chasing and having and brooding, and... I just don't understand these relationships where you all do insane things.
B: Good-bye, rant-girl.
D: Well, you could, like, paint a beautiful mural on every ugly wall in the world, and then you could paint a beautiful mural on every ugly mural in the--

A: Maybe I'm not even the right Anyanka, ever think about that? I mean, tons of Anyanka's out there. Maybe one of them pissed off this, uh, what did you say his name was? D'Hoffrynfeffer?

B: Good thing I stopped by and heard screaming.

A: Well, thank you for the generous life-saving. Now please go away.

A: Willow's not very good with the practical strategizing... except when she's evil.

Cheerleader: A vending machine fell on Cheryl and all you can think about is new cheerleaders?

D: RJ's never going to notice me now.
B: From what you said, I'm sure he already noticed you. I mean, with the falling, and the-- spirit, spirit! They said you were spirited, right?

B: I don't think tonight's gonna be good for videos, Xand.
X: Right. With the wailing and the crying.

B: I don't want a new cheerleading outfit.
X: Now, now, let's not be hasty.

X: It's the jacket. It's true, something about the big letter on the chest, it makes girls get all swoony and crushy. I saw it all the time in school. And you couldn't just pin any old felt letter to your coat and get play. Not that I tried.

R: That sucks, facing the whole inquisition thing.
D: Yeah, no one expects the Spanish Inquisition. God, it's like I have a disease or something.

X: No, Spike definitely seems a little more cogent, less bl-bl-bl-bl-bl-bl. I'm just sayin'... once you get back the soul, doesn't that mean you start, like, picking up your own wet towels off the floor?
W: No, but maybe you start to feel really bad about leaving them there.
B: At least he's showering. That's a refreshing and delightful change.

B: The one who, according to Dawn, is the "smartest, funniest, coolest, hottest, and having-the-thickest-boy-eyelashes boy in school"

W: Check out the fan club.
X: Daddy like.
B: What is that shirt make of, paint?
W: Buff...
B: Glad Dawnie isn't here to see her precious boyfriend getting all thrusty with some slut-bag hussy... oh.
X: Oh. Oh! No! "Daddy" -- no, I wasn't -- when I was looking, I wasn't-- Oh, god.
W: Right there with ya.

B: Third, Anna Nicole Smith thinks you look tacky.

B: Okay, first with the lap dance, now with the cat fight. Hey, wanna get drunk and barf next?

PW: Avoid detention, RJ. Sound good?
R: Whatever.
PW: Ah, sweet, infectious enthusiasm.

B: I think he likes you.
D: Really? Tell me what he said about me, every word, including intonation and facial expressions.

B: He might have said that... you came on a little strong.
D: Oh my god. I'm the pushy queen of slut-town!

R: There's no one here.
B: Yeah, there is. There's one of you, and there's one of me. You were the one in math class. Tell me what that adds up to.

X: Now, get off the boy, Buffy. We're going home.

B: Did you hear that? It isn't real. You're just crazy.

D: Stop! You're not supposed to do this.
B: Why? Because he's younger than me? You know, I'm extremely youthful and peppy.

A: They're crazy little lust-puppies, aren't they?

Len: So what's up with RJ? How's he doin' at the old alpha mater?

Len: I gotta tell you, there was a time I was worried about RJ. He used to be all into comic books, model U.N., geek stuff -- no offense, Harris. One time, I found all this poetry under his bed. Turns out, he wrote it. Then he, uh, what do you call it? Blossomed. That's what it was like.
X: And do you have any idea why he, you know, burst into a flower all of a sudden?

Len: I got a sort of a rumpus room set up in the basement. There's air-hockey and a mini-fridge. We could party.
Mrs. Boone: Len, do you have guests down there? There's little boxes of raisins if you want snacks.

W: Damn love spell. I have tried every anti-love-spell spell I can find.
A: Even if you found the right one, guy would probably just do an anti-anti-love-spell spell... spell.
W: What?

A: No Buffy for you! Leave quickly now.

W: But you don't even know him!
A: Yes I do! I looked into him and I saw his soul.
W: He was walking away! So unless his soul is in his ass...

B: Willow, you're a gay woman! And he isn't!
W: This isn't about his physical presence. It's about his heart.
A: His physical presence has a penis!
W: I can work around it!

W: Just think about who loves him the most. Clearly I do, since I'm willing to look past the whole orientation thing.
A: Well, you're gonna have to do better that that. I'd kill for him.
W: You'd kill for a chocolate bar!

B: Oh! I'll kill the principal.
A: Oh, that is hard to top.
W: Yeah? Well, I have skills. I can prove my love with magic.
A: That's right. What are you gonna do, use magic to make him into a girl? [Willow looks ecstatic] Damn!

W: Oh, man! Now I've got to start all over. Hecate hates that.

X: What the hell are you doing?
W: Proving I love RJ the most.
X: Will, honey... RJ's a guy.
W: I did notice that, yeah. That's why I was doing my spell. 'Cause, you know, he doesn't have to be.

B: I've got a principal to kill. What's going on?

B: You realize that Anya's probably seducing RJ even as we speak.
W: My god, you think so?
B: Well, I wouldn't put it past her. She's recently evil, you know.
W: Well, so am I! Why should I miss out?

B: This is a plan? You're gonna steal RJ by being trisected?!

D: I thought you wanted him for you.
B: Nah. Well, yeah. My god, that boy is hot. Sorry. I think I might be under a spell here.
D: I hear ya.

X: That, my friends, is the smell of sweet, sweet victory.
A: Also, burning poly-cotton blend.

B: Xander, be honest. You didn't, you know, think about slipping that jacket on just a little bit?
X: I refuse to answer that on the grounds that it didn't fit.

X: Welcome to the Hellmouth, where even outerwear isn't safe.

W: Hey, Anya. You never told us what your.. "Can't believe you almost--"
A: Almost who now?
W: No, you can't be the only not embarrassed one. What did you do?
A: Oh, I wrote a poem. An epic poem. Comparing him to a daisy, and a tower, and a lake.
Radio: And now the latest on Sunnydale's late-night bandit, who is still at large. A masked thief held up a number of businesses--
[Anya turns off radio]
A: Okay, great. Ice-cream, my treat?

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